


Life's full of surprises

by Uploaded



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Crossover, Gen, character comeback, random game mash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2014-10-28
Packaged: 2018-01-02 15:18:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1058339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uploaded/pseuds/Uploaded
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life is like a box of chocolates, you just never know what you’re going to get. AC3 spoilers</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Vault

**Author's Note:**

> Hey to whoever is reading this! this is my first fic so please be gentle ;)   
> Disclaimer: I don't own Assassins creed or any characters (except Raymond and Oliver) they belong to Ubisoft   
> Last warning of AC3 spoilers and a surprise crossover ye been warned...  
> Hope you enjoy!

Juno lied.

There was pain; so much pain shooting up his arm like a relentless lightning bolt, a force so excruciating Desmond collapsed onto his knees. Yet his left hand stayed firmly on the pedestal, his right placed on top; either keeping his hand steady or trying to pull away from the fearsome elemental artefact. The blinding electric blue light flooded the vault casting a bleak Silhouette of Desmond’s hunched figure scattered over the uneven crevasses of the walls.

He knew there was no turning back. It was his life or billions of people that was it, granted not every single human on the planet was innocent but who could live with so many meaningless deaths on their conscience? Not Desmond. Desmond was not a complex man nor did he see the world in black or white, all he wanted to do was to explore. To spread his wings from being cooped in a farm for so long, there were sights, tastes, smells, and so much potential left untouched by his burning hands; Desmond just wanted to be free from his fate entwined with memories that weren't his own, death and control.  
The activation of the vaults shield lasted only a few seconds if any spectators were present, but to Desmond it felt like years had stretched out before him just like his strained heart beat thrumming in his ears. Then Desmond’s hands left the glowing piece tilting backwards, there was no scream or eerie laughter as he fell backwards onto the hard floor with an echoing ‘thump.’  
Juno’s ghost like presence appeared silently and acknowledged Desmond’s steaming corpse with solemn regard, looking down at the boy’s blank expression. “You have played your part Desmond, now its time I play mine” Juno spoke with conviction walking around the body towards the many complex tunnels to the light outside, finally free of her invisible bonds trapping her in that place.

Her footsteps were the only sound echoing in the stilled air which faded with ticking seconds, the steam from the diseased hands drifted away into nothing. The room seemed baron and desolate which in contrast to a few seconds ago seemed impossible. After a few uneventful hours three men in hazard suits drifted in discovering the ex-assassins body, Raymond the youngest and most inexperienced of the three approached with caution and crouched to examine the boy’s still form while the others recorded the evidence in the area; he frowned beneath his protective plastic. Desmond’s skin was not as one would think of a man running a few hours ago or even a deceased man, it was clammy and grey in contrast to Raymond’s bleach white latex gloves. On further examination of his sullen face Miles’s teeth were all slightly sharp, his charcoaled arms bones fused together and his fingernails slightly engorged. “Sir, I think something has happened to Subject 17” Raymond’s voice echoed addressing his colleagues for the first time since he entered the room. “Well yeah he’s dead and a bit crispy for my liking” muttered Oliver from across the room to him “I know it’s hard seeing your first dead man, but please” Raymond glared at the sarcastic higher ranking man frustrated at his lack of consideration. “But sir…” he trailed off desperate to prove himself yet not overstep his boundaries, without looking up the sharp reply was “Listen boy I'm the man in charge of the operation and you will do as I say, no further questions.”  
Desmond’s body was taken away in an Abstergo body-bag the three employees oblivious to the further changes in Subject 17’s body or the fact that his ridged fingers twitched.


	2. Rude awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Sadly I don't own any of the characters in this chapter, all belong to Ubisoft

Many novices on the farm considered Desmond as privileged; he had a bloodline rich of assassin heritage, both parents and a highly ranked sire. His families’ success meant that the boy had his life set out for him, from detailed training to a substantial education.

However, the only Miles child saw himself as unlucky to be honest, he had huge expectations slung over his shoulder to carry on the Miles name and obey the creed. As he grew Desmond’s focus slipped from the enforced farms walls to the outside, what was out there? What did it look like? It didn’t help that the farm was traditionally Amish, avoiding technology and its possible hidden tracking at almost all costs. _Never trust Apple_ \- his farther said as if expecting Desmond to know of a multi-wide advanced company at the age of 11 not the fruit. _Don’t use real names; don’t make a scene, never harm an innocent, never_ \- all of these binding words shattered when Desmond fled.

He didn’t expect to turn and bite him on the arse. I mean really? he just wanted his own life. _Think positive!_ He always thought of giving people a chance, life’s too short for paranoia and mistrust. He never thought indulging in a little luxury would lead him like a lamb to the slaughter, just a motorbike and a few other snippets but _no_ he had to be special.

_Special enough to have my own luxury body bag_ he thought even though it didn’t even register what the idea or what has happened in the past few hours, it wasn’t the shock of well you know dying, but his train of thought was quicker and distracted. The smells, the sounds...Just _everything_ with his orange tinted vision impaired other senses multiplied the rugged texture of the bag, loud footsteps heightened rumbling in the boy’s ear drums; the three skittish heart beats high above his head. He stayed still trying to catch a grip on his wandering mind, it was hard to focus like trying to hold water in an open palm; possible but dam difficult to maintain.

The movements came to a halt and a slight chill crept up his spine, the yummy smells and sounds were gone now alone Desmond tried to focus more clearly. He took a deep breath which rattled in his lungs, _okay I died, I’m back and I’m so hungry, what the fuck_ he began to shift as the chill slivered into his bones; he paid little mind to his left arm which was sensitive yet dull at the same time. Cautiously he cut along the seam of the bag not acknowledging that nothing was in his hand and slowly lifted his head. Only to hit it on the top of the cabinet roof in a more fluid movement intended.

**_Wwcrry?!_** An agitated rumble caused a tremor through his hunched frame, his non-existent hackles rose at the back of his neck. Desmond paused, now despite Shaun’s upmost _conviction_ in the idea but Desmond wasn’t stupid, naive yes, but not stupid. He had a little brain power to know that humans didn’t make such a well _in_ human noise, or come back from the dead now he thought about it. He began to panic trying to breathe deeply through his nose ignoring the sanitised and stale smell that greeted him; he looked down at his rough hands, one burnt to a crisp both with sharp claws imbedded at the end of them. He examined the rest of his body as best as he could, everything seemed to be just like his foggy memories told him although his limbs were a bit sluggish, but give the ‘dead’ guy a break. Flattening his palms on the crisp roof he slowly and with surprising strength he pushed out the draw he was on, it slid open with little protest despite the cold air inside on its joints. He glanced around at his surroundings he seemed to be in a morgue? Well that made sense...wait despite his frazzled mind he’d recognise that bloody logo anywhere.

_Fucking_ Abstergo.


	3. What on Earth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for anyone who has read this far!  
> I don't own the characters ubisoft do yadda yadda you know the jist of it. :)
> 
> I wonder if anyone can guess what Des is, I have left clues in all chapters :3
> 
> hope you enjoy!

Desmond was usually a patient man, holding his tongue at smart asses ~~Shaun~~ and doing ‘lower class’ jobs to earn a small living. But Abstergo have kidnapped him from his content life, scared his ex-work mates for life and the whole held against his will and well- mind fucking memories they put him through. So forgive him and don’t be surprised that Desmond was about to blow a gasket. It didn’t help that whatever was happening in his body increased this _rage_ stirring in his belly; the orange film like substance tainting his vision an unconscious hiss escaping his lips. Unintentionally clasping his burned arm some of his fingers responding to him sluggishly.

_Come on Des, one foot in front of the other._ **_Calm down._** Straitening his spine with a deep inhale his eyes slowly take notice of a mandatory air vent, he smirked approaching the vent on unsteady legs. _This is like Die Hard I’m so original_ using his thin claws like a screwdriver (claws? When did I? Eh) he froze at his reflection. A deathly pale grey face stood out against the dark metals surface, a gaping mouth showing his sharpened canines pronouncing from his top row of teeth. But what chilled him to the _bone_ were his eyes. The whites of Desmond’s eyes were pitch black, both irises a startling metallic silver grey. Desmond was petrified by his own reflection; he couldn’t believe it. He broke his own gaze unable to look anymore.

Removing the lid, clambering inside the shaft with a determined look on his face he began crawling through the narrow tunnels he chanced upon an escape route grill. _Time to_ _get out of this dump_ he heaved himself out, landing onto a ledge outside trying to ignore the rush of sudden smells and sounds assaulting him. _Ah shit that burns!_ Desmond whimpered pulling up his hood attempting to block out the suns piercing rays from his sensitive eyes. He thought three things:

1\. Whatever is happening in his body isn’t good or normal in the slightest.

2\. _Sunlight stings like a bitch_

3\. He needed to find answers. Fast.

Desmond quickly ducked on the landing hearing movement coming from bellow from his side; a small group of six armed soldiers dressed in black padded armour entered the empty town square. The ex-assassin then knew something else was going on, a rush hour with no people? In the heart of _Manhattan?!_ His thoughts were interrupted by a feminine command from the officer in front of the five co-workers.

“Suspected tangos in the area boys, keep a keen eye on high and low ground; you’ve seen these things in action”

_Things?_

“Yes maim, especially those mutated ones… poor Ryan didn’t stand a chance did he?”

_Mutated…people…like me?_

“He went out fighting John, I’m gonna’ kill every fuckin’ infected sicko I see for ‘im”

_Infected… I’m infected aren’t I?_

_But with what?_


	4. New point of view

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing some new faces :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tried Shaun's P.O.V  
> Some action is coming up soon don't worry.

**Date:** 24/2/13

 **Duration:** 3:24

 **Recording:** Shaun Hastings

 **Contains:** ‘None of your bloody business’

_“It’s been around two months since the spread of the infection and the death of Desmond… I personally think Juno’s escape and the illness are linked; these so called ‘God’s’ like her have a sick form of entertainment and sense of humour.”_

_“…Today I was looking at extracts we commandeered from our Abstergo ‘employee’, including the recording of Subject 17’s fate…I shouldn’t miss the imbecile American in all fairness, I never tried to engage conversation with him; although he never seemed to understand the phrase “Go away.” Lucy warned us not to get attached to him; the chance of his mind detraining like the other subjects was extremely high, but now… Lucy and Desmond are gone.”_

_“You know I never thought my life would be like this after university, heh..I wanted to be a lecturer in history or have my own local library. Not running openly armed in daylight shooting previous humans. Not posing as a coffee maker with cheaply dyed hair, *Sigh* yes Rebecca if you’re watching this I hate not being ginger I owe you another free drink…..nosey bugger.”_

_“I’ve lost track of what I was talking about, guess I’m signing out now…what are the point of these anyway?”_

“Yo, tea bag you busy up there?” the nerve of Rebecca I swear one of these days

“For the last time it’s Shaun! And yeah coming I was just doing a mission log thing…what are they for anyway?” I mumbled walking down the hallway of our one story apartment, thank heavens there’s no work today bless sick days! I entered the livingroom greeted by the polite sight of Rebecca’s back.

“There for fellow assassin’s wanting to hear about the events of the awesome foursome! Starring; me, you, William and Lucy woo!” I noted the lack of Desmond but there was the answer and a fist pump, oh lovely.

“I think you’ve drank enough Monster for one day pixie, what do you want anywho?” I commented ignoring her glare at the nickname I’ve grown fond off. Really, what did she expect when she calls me from tea bag to bulldog.

“I need milk and bread from the store and I don’t feel like taking on a horde alone, you know what I’m saying chummy?” she chirped giving me a cheeky grin crooking her rifle against her shoulder.

“Alright fine, but watch where you’re shooting okay? I’d rather not get shot in the arse… _again_.”


	5. Bread and milk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! sorry this hasn't been updated in a while, busy busy!  
> Enjoy, hopefully their in character.

**Shaun P.O.V**

Life has been hard for everyone, but walking reassured around with a machete strapped on my waist in a 24/7 corner shop and not be detained is beyond me. I glanced at Rebecca who was currently drooling over a freezer full of pizza, ‘just want bread and milk’ my arse. “Hey, Shaun…. can we get one!”

 “No”

“pleaaaaase ssshuuannn”

“For goodness sake no!”

“Why not you British git!”

 “that’s good coming from a pixie!”

“I’ll get this pizza and shuv’ it up yo-“

**CRASH ………RRRRRHHHAA**

Years of training one's reflexes come in handy as I instinctively grab Rebecca and duck down along the isle as flying pieces of shop derby flew past our heads, everyone in the shop screams, hides then and are deadly silent. I sort out my glasses and my eyes focus in on the infected beast, a tank, a FUCKING TANK?! I turn my eyes to Rebecca who is frozen stiff but her wide eyes looking at me say it all.

 We know we are dead.

The tanks pink muscular arms crush through the hole it made in its fit of rage, small beady black eyes look around trying to spot the slightest movement. One thing everyone knows is that Tanks rely on movement like T-Rex’s, but its sense of smell already seals the shop keeper’s fate; who seems to have urinated in fear.

I clench my eyes shut stopping the sight but not smell and sounds coming just a few feet in front of me, shaking arms hug my torso and a head nuzzles into the side of my neck; I have learnt to block out the deaths Rebecca’s still a novice at heart.

The screams stop.

New ones replace the old.

“HELP ME HEL-“

**_“RRWWHYYY?!”_ **

My eyes snap open staring at the blood splattered on my shoes.

A _Hunter_. There is no way out of this. _None at all._

_I’m so sorry, Rebecca…_


	6. Hello again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh writers block is just as bad as artists, having both at the same time...UGH  
> Anyway without further delay! I own nothing waaaay :D

Juno’s release triggered two infections into the world as her vengeance upon the human race; the Mercer virus and the Green Flu.

Despite my deteriorating mental state from the latter and the bleeding effect I figured it out, yeah it took me a few weeks but hey- cut me some slack will ya? I’m quite in control right now, the flu and virus has hollowed thousands of once emotional people; leaving husks of instinct triggered monsters.

Somehow I’m on the borderline; unhinged but not insane, dead but still _alive_ my memories are clouded but not gone. One day I will be normal I swear. I-I can’t contact _anyone_ \- other infected are blank slated cannibals and I can’t just pop into mums for a cup of tea! Well not without a bullet or two to the face she’s one fiery lady.

Ummm I remember one time-

**CRASHHH RRUAGHHHH**

A Tanks bellow interrupted my thoughts as the instincts began latching on, orange film flaring out across my eyes. Across the street a shops walls are in tatters, bodies’ misfired by the counter Blood, sweat and urine attack my nose oh God there is so much blood.

Such delicious blood…

  _Shit, in control, shit, shi….._ wait blood, glasses, grey jumper.. _dark_ hair?…S-Shaun? _C-control.._ And the woman huddled into his frame looks just like…Rebecca?  Th-the tank it’s so close I-I have to help, must help them.. ** _must_** …

The tank bleeds into a bright crimson colour the other two solid blue, the worlds orange and grey as my stress triggers a bleed…

**_“non farà male i miei fratelli!"_ ** _(You will not hurt my brothers!)_

A shriek erupts from my lips in pure outrage, refined battle thoughts put together a plan in seconds; I use my legs to propel onto a lamp post and pounce onto the back of the beasts venerable head. My talons shred into the big oaf, blood splattering my body, hood and face; I don’t give a dam _no one_ hurts my friends even big twats on steroids. My hands hit bone, _gocha!_ Their one weak point… slowly it tilts backwards its big mass pulling it downwards with a sickening **thud.**

The little shop is silent as the dust clears and I stand deep un-needed breathes and adrenaline tremors through my body, shaking arms stretched out just in case and legs bent slightly. I should feel bad for being well a murderer; I guess that comes in hand in hand with an assassin dead or alive. Cautiously I lower down in what I hope is a less threatening position as standing kills my back, crawling on all fours towards the crouched humans.

They clutch each other, ‘Bec’s face hidden and Shaun’s buried in her hair, and I stop a few feet from them.


	7. What just happened?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary- Like a school reunion just a bit more memorable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you think I own Assassins creed by now I question your mental state.
> 
> Anyway here you go enjoy~

_Fear_

I stay frozen in my spot as the bleed fades leaving me with their expressions…there afraid of me…I can smell it.

I understand the whole infected thing but come on!

**_“Don’t you recognise me!?”_ **

Shaun glares at me but his fear is showing through his façade, I uhhh take it they don’t speak local infected ‘round here, tough crowd. Probably sounded like a gurgle or something, whoops…humm plan B. _This is so fucking frustrating,_ hesitantly I crawl towards them again making what I hope are reassuring noises. Good old mister 007 looks like he’s gonna crap his pants, need to be calm I can work with that I thi-

_**FUCK OW OWOWow** _

During Desmond’s dramatic inner monologue and Shaun’s stare off; both men failed to take notice of the Woman, you know the _assassin_ one take note of her surroundings. You can’t say she’s not resourceful as she grabs the frozen, _rock hard_ , pizza and launches it at the Hunters face. 

Pow right in the kisser!

Several things happen at once.

1) Poor howling Desmond flies backwards in reflex and lands in a nearby freezer with an undignified whelp, feet sticking out.

2) Shaun  ~~craps himself~~ is grabbed by a triumphant Rebecca and is pulled upwards sprinting away.

3) The ‘innocent’ Pizza skids across the floor.

The ruined shop grows quiet as the remaining survivors flee, leaving a grumpy dead guy to hop out of the freezer.

Uhhh we that was something else; at least they didn't shoot me…Plan C it is oh _man_.

The infected drags himself over and picks up the pizza which is like a fucking brick apparently.

_God dam I better not get shot. I'm gonna’ shove this Pizza where the sun don’t shine if I get shot._


	8. Mail Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pizza.

**Shaun’s pov**

“Rebecca I don’t know how to say this but…that was awesome” I stutter still slightly giddy from escaping a hunter _AND_ a tank who can say that?! Glancing at Bec’ who seems to be chuckling madly as she sits down next to me mug in hand.

“You hear that thing? Haha _uuuuGGHhhhh_ haha RIGHT in the face!” I gotta admit dat impression was precise. I wonder what happened to that scruffy little thing, it looked a bit skinny and desperate for my liking; probably has a permanent dent in its face right now. Ignoring Bec’s stupid expressions and gestures I glance down at my trembling hands, scrubbed red to wash of the blood; that was a close call- too close we need to get better.

**_Sscr sscrr_ **

It all goes quiet, I stiffened head lashing upwards to the door at the end of our flat how did it find u- the blood…we got cut from glass on the shops floor, oh God how good was a dead creatures smell? That noise-

“It’s playing with the mail flap…” a hushed voice enters my ear I don’t look at her there’s a fucking _clawed_ hand in sight pushing itself in slightly, oh good its goin-

***Crunch***

**.....................**

**“The fuck?!”** “The fuck?”

A pizza. A bloody pizza. Falls out onto our door mat. One with a little dent in the side.


End file.
